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Every diploma, every internship, every accolade was meant to lead up to the pinnacle moment where I became the adult I had been training to become. Except that did not happen. Days shy of 23, a year out of college, still an intern and living in my aunt’s attic on a pull-out couch I am not the picture perfect idea of freedom and success that I imagined. Rather, this stage of my life feels more like an end of episode SNL sketch with a professional athlete: uncomfortable, way too long and without a clear punchline.

The most frequent advice I had received about the college to adult metamorphosis was that no one knows what they are doing and everyone is faking it until they were making it. In essence: it just sort of happens. Thus, I put on my big girl sweatpants and geared up ready to sprout some wings. Just like Hilary Duff in 2003,I thought “Why Not?” might as well find my “Inner Strength,” because everything has to be “So Yesterday.”

Regardless of my preconceived perception, there was no cosmic shift, no puzzle pieces falling into place and definitely no evolution to report. My preparation for a smooth sail down the path I created turned quickly into a stumbling, daunting rock trail and I did not pack my helmet and elbow pads.

Seeing many of peers reveling in adulthood with posts about travel, engagements, new homes and more importantly puppies–it is easy to get discouraged that my current version of adulting is defective. I turned to my closest friends and asked them if they felt like adults. The responses ranging from many flat ‘no’s, multiple ‘not even kind of’s and one lonely ‘kinda.’ The best response said by my dear friend Annie: “No and I’m a mom.”

If the majority of the people I surround myself with don’t feel like adults then why are we all trying to pretend like we are?

I can without a doubt say that in the span from college to now, I have pushed the spectrum of emotions on both ends; I have felt total elation and I have had days where I could not get out of bed. I thought that I could blame outside variables into the pressures and stress I am feeling, but they simply do not exist.

The only person trying to force this mold of expectation was me. I have been pedaling through this last year trying to figure out how to get to the top of the mountain looking for all of the answers without acknowledging that maybe frigid peaks are not my thing–I do not have adequate snow gear.

What I have realized is there is no hidden key that’s going to unlock the final boss standing between me and my dream job, my dream city or sleeps filled without anxiety dreams.

I don’t have any of the answers in my own life, I don’t know where to find them, and I definitely don’t even know where to start looking, but maybe that is OK. This adulthood thing never seemed like a suitable fit for me as a child, and maybe it never will. Maybe the best way for me to figure out my adult version of life is to take it as it comes.

Two of my favorite phrases from my mother are “everyone goes at their own speed” and “everyone’s got their own shit.” Ain’t that the damn truth. Although it seems like there are certain milestones in place to be adulting correctly, know that everyone goes at their own damn speed and has their own shit to deal with. And maybe that is just fine.

For those who with similar scrapes and bruises, find solace in knowing that you are not alone. We can ride this confusing life together. Bring your helmet though, we are going to need it.

After coming out last September, the world became a more colorful place. Living in a world where I am not constantly checking my gayness at the door allowed me tap into a new found happiness and confidence that I did not know existed. People in my Catholic community of Tulsa, Okla., were accepting, loving and supportive. Many of the most devout Catholics I know—including my mother—did not bat an eye at my sexuality. On the contrary, many were genuinely confused as to why it took me so long to bust out of the closet in full rainbow garb.

The influx of “religious freedoms laws” is a harsh reminder why my closet seemed more spacious than it was. Since the founding of our nation, religion has been used a bargaining tool, justifier and legal aide for the harshest forms of discrimination. After what seemed like ultimate progress in a monumental win for the queer community last June, there was immediate and dangerous backlash from GOP state leaders in Indiana, Alabama, Arkansas, Kansas and Oklahoma—just to name a few—passing laws to defend their constituents “religious freedom.”

In the past two weeks, the formation of more “religious freedom” or “anti-LGBT” laws have received national attention including North Carolina’s HB2, Mississippi’s HB 1523 and Georgia’s HB 757. The bills in North Carolina and Mississippi were signed into law, but Georgia’s Gov. Nathan Deal vetoed House Bill 757 due to the consequences it would have on the Peach State’s economy. North Carolina’s extreme anti-trans law has led for the state to lose major expansion with PayPal and has been threatened by numerous companies. The corporate backlash and threats expressing their grave dissatisfaction with these bills is the moral standpoint in which many would hope that their state, local and religious leaders would adopt.

The sincerely held religious beliefs or moral convictions protected by this act are the belief or conviction that:

(a) Marriage is or should be recognized as the union of one man and one woman;

(b) Sexual relations are properly reserved to such a marriage; and

(c) Male (man) or female (woman) refer to an individual’s immutable biological sex as objectively determined by anatomy and genetics at time of birth.

It’s hard for my brain to process that these abhorrent words so flagrantly stating bigotry were passed in 2016. I am saddened for the people in Mississippi and like-minded states who are now legally allowed to be discriminated against simply for their existence.

As someone who grew up attending Catholic schools and church, who has studied the bible and who knows many members of its faith, I want to express that these laws do a disservice to Jesus’ teachings of acceptance, love and peacefulness. But regardless of the way one interprets religious text, our laws must continue to evolve excluding our individual understanding. We are supposed to be a secular nation founded on the freedom and safety of all its people. Passing these narrow-minded laws into action systematically tear holes in the national fabric of our country.

The statistics for the people in the LGBT community, especially the trans community, who are mistreated, verbally and physically attacked and who contemplate or commit suicide are staggering and these laws have done nothing but applaud and welcome more discrimination. Using religion as a shield for bigotry is archaic, misguided and damaging to the American people. As Abe Lincoln stated: “my concern is not whether God is on our side, my greatest concern is to be on God’s side.” The bible should not be used as a bludgeon to justify laws or actions in condemning an entire group of people, rather we should function in its virtues of inclusiveness, loving our neighbors and treating others with respect even in disagreement.

Every day I wear a necklace adorned with the state outline of Oklahoma. Not because I can overlook the glaring institutional homophobic and transphobic issues with my home state, but because the people that I know that live inside those lines have helped me become who I am as a proud, open and happy gay woman.

Over the years of asking my friends and family about blog topic ideas I have come to the realization that there is a commonality in their perception of me and with the concept “write what you know.” I thought the questioning would lead to something along the lines of my 2016 predictions, the ratio for a perfect BLT or my opinion on the time jump on Pretty Little Liars. I was wrong. Thus, let us begin with a concrete fact: I have been single for 22 years. If you excel in math, then you will count that up to the summation of my life. That is 22 years of being single on Valentine’s day—not that I understood what that meant for the first 12 of them.

Recent studies show that depression and anxiety rates among young adults spike during the first two weeks of February, according to single white girls with social media accounts. Disparaging the holiday of Valentine’s Day has become a social norm to be likened to the word “literally” and the act of twerking. Everyone is doing it, but now it’s more out of habit than enjoyment.

Regardless of the shade V-Day gets it is actually a pretty dope Roman Catholic holiday celebrating St. Valentine, the patron saint of engaged couples, happy marriages, courting traditions and epilepsy.

Do not fret, this is not a post exploiting the consumeristic nature of V-Day or the deep sadness brewing inside my unloved heart. On the contrary, this is a declaration of love for a day meant to celebrate just that.

Love is a truly beautiful thing. It typically gets romanticized to epic gestures or flamboyant weddings, but in reality, love is just a solid, deep feeling of affection. I feel love for my family and friends, my deceased childhood dog and for Leslie Knope. It’s a form of human affirmation that we aren’t horrible monsters and that others do want to be around us. But “love” gets muddled to romantic partnerships. That the most concrete form of acceptance is finding your one true soul mate, having forty babies and dying holding each other in the bed you shared for sixty years. And that could sound appealing—and maybe even ideal—but typing that statement made me cringe a little.

One of the greatest love stories of all time, Romeo & Juliet, has taught me something very important: don’t fall in love at a young age if you don’t want to deal with the drama of double suicide. Honestly, it taught me that things can get messy in a romantic relationship, whether it’s a disagreement on dinner plans or killing your boo’s cousin in a duel.

This realization led me to embark on a modern love story for the ages: falling in love with myself. It’s less of a cheesy Cosmo suggestion and more of an annoying way of stating that everyone should focus on themselves if they have that luxury this Valentine’s Day. Sometimes there are too many distractions in our lives to really sit down and enjoy our own company.

Regardless of the pressures by societal timelines or binge-watching Rom-Coms, do not feel guilty if your perfect way of celebrating love is being alone. Straight up, I love hanging out with myself. It usually involves two different kinds of meats, a hefty glass of beer and trying to mimic the spiritual voice of Beyoncé.

As Valentine’s Day makes its bend around the corner, let’s acknowledge the important people in our lives with heart emoji-filled texts or throwback Instagram photos, but let’s also celebrate the person we should love the most. In doing this you will help foster a day of mass self-love. When people love themselves, it makes it easier to love others and for others to love you as well.

On a day intended to celebrate what many would consider the purpose of human existence, let’s wine and dine ourselves. We deserve love, especially from ourselves.

Written with immense help and words from my lovely cousin, Jase Tilley.

In my parent’s home, above my red, wooden mirror in my small, teal-tiled bathroom adorns a sticker. It reads, “in a world where you can be anything…be yourself.” A gift from my mother most likely purchased on a whim at the Dollar Tree. It is large and ugly, but its meaning has always lingered dear to my heart.

It is a beautiful sentiment for those who have the means and opportunities to choose their own path in life. When I was younger, I imagined that meant becoming the superhero I always thought I was. As time progressed, the paradox of this sticker left me disheartened.

In 1993, I was born an American citizen in the state of Oklahoma. I wouldn’t know this until the hormones kicked in, but I was also born a lesbian—a part of me that I have not shared with many people. Yes, I did struggle accepting myself for a short period in my adolescence, but a larger part of the reason I have waited until now to come out is because I thought the second I was true to myself would also be the second I would be open to discrimination.

This thought blinded me from the perpetual truth. I damaged not only myself, but possibly other members of the LGBT community by selfishly protecting my personal fear. Morgana Bailey, a human resources activist, gave a TED talk that crippled me. It was poignant, raw, and possibly hit me in the most revolutionary, tear-filled moment I have experienced. In it she says:

I’d always told myself there’s no reason to share that I was gay, but the idea that my silence has social consequences was really driven home this year when I missed an opportunity to change the atmosphere of discrimination in my own home state of Kansas.

In February, the Kansas House of Representatives brought up a bill for vote that would have essentially allowed businesses to use religious freedom as a reason to deny gays services. A former coworker and friend of mine has a father who serves in the Kansas House of Representatives. He voted in favor of the bill, in favor of a law that would allow businesses to not serve me.

How does my friend feel about lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and questioning people? How does her father feel? I don’t know, because I was never honest with them about who I am. And that shakes me to the core. What if I had told her my story years ago? Could she have told her father my experience? Could I have ultimately helped change his vote? I will never know, and that made me realize I had done nothing to try to make a difference.

For those of you who have known me for a month, a year or a lifetime this may come as a surprise to you. The truth is that nothing changes for you. You may temporarily be titillated by the fact that I shared a secret, or confused as to why I am making such a big deal out of something so a couple months ago. Despite the liberal steps forward our country has seen over the last year, discrimination persists. As a result, something so personal, so consequential to ones happiness, becomes a defining characteristic through which our society views you. Instead of being a personal decision, matters of the heart are subject to public scrutiny, with devastating effects on the LGBT community, and the heart of our nation.

In some states there are laws in place justifying discrimination against people like me by hiding behind the guise of “religious freedom.” In states like Texas, Indiana, Alabama, Kansas and my home state of Oklahoma, it is legal for someone to fire me, prevent me from adopting children, not approve a home and refuse service because of my sexual orientation.

Plain and simple, there is a chance that I could be legally discriminated against in certain states. There will be no physical or tangible difference post-coming out, yet by admitting a singular part of myself, that lingering risk still remains. I am still the same human being I was before you read this article–except I may be sporting a little more rainbow. So does it really make sense that there are laws protecting people who think there is something wrong with the way I was born and no anti-discrimination laws protecting people like me just because I happen to be attracted to Beyoncé instead of Jay-Z?

I was raised in a Catholic home, attending Catholic schools through high school. I was required to take courses that aligned with the Catholic faith. What I learned in my years as a student from the teachings of Jesus Christ was the opposite of what I see conservative politics claiming they are trying to uphold.

I’m no expert, but it seems like Jesus was a cool dude. He taught about acceptance, love, sacrifice, and service. The bible has a couple verses about homosexuality and hundreds about acceptance. That’s like standing in a field of beautiful sunflowers and deciding to pick the only one that is dead and forcing people to smell it.

Although it may be time to get rid of the ugly sticker, the message will finally take shape for me. Today, I finally decide to be me in this world where we can truly be ourselves.

College is a wonderful time of life decisions, mistakes and ramen noodles. School work can be tough, but the life of a college student is filled with some of the greatest times that will be cherished forever. Everything is blissfully wonderful until your phone alarm goes off and you are a senior. How did this happen? Who let this happen? Mommy, Daddy, help me?

This sudden realization that the clock is half passed euphoria and ticking quickly to reality makes one truly think about their goals in life. It’s a hard decision, deciding how you want to take your next step in life. Do I go to my hometown or go to an unfamiliar city? Do I accept any job that gets offered or do I really stick it out to find something that I love? So, you’re telling me I really cannot wear a t-shirt everyday out there? Did you say budgeting? Explain.

But thank Beyoncé (my version of “thank god”), there will always be someone lingering around waiting to ask you the most delightful question in the book:

It’s inevitable that this question will be asked a multitude of times when a student is rearing the end of their college career. It’s a painful thing to answer. One, you don’t want to seem goalless, and two, you don’t want to lie. Is there a happy medium? No, but I will give you some alternatives.

In the words of a poet, “get out, (leave) right now.” JoJo could not have said it any better. Figure out a way to get your clueless butt as far away from this person and as close to food quicker than you can say, “jambalaya.” Here are some things you can say:

“It means a lot to me that you care, but excuse me for one moment. I am almost positive I just saw Rosie O’Donnell standing in the distance.”

“I am sorry, I didn’t catch that. I can’t hear correctly unless I have consumed a cheeseburger in the last thirty minutes. I will be back.”

“Excuse me, I am on fire.” (For this one you need to actually light yourself on fire or it won’t work)

Casually slip the person that you are talking to a generous donation of an Abraham Lincoln, while you tell them to keep quiet.

If you can’t afford that, a GW will work too.

After they ask you the question, begin to yell as if you are in a club with loud, electronic music blasting. Just keep repeating, “I’m sorry I can’t hear you, but this DJ is dope,” until they walk away.

Smile at them and nod. If they repeat the question, act like you can’t understand the language they are speaking. Like before, keep up the act until they walk away.

I don’t consider a non-truth a lie if it is obviously complete and utter bullshit. So get creative.

“Actually, Kim Jong-Un has asked me to be his adviser. We are pretty tight. I am leaving for North Korea the day after graduation.”

“I have been asked to be a college student for the rest of my life. It’s some social experience. They are making me take pills to grow a beard. I haven’t had the guts to ask them why yet.”

“Thank you for asking, I have actually began the slow process of collecting strands of human hair to create the largest hairball in the world. No two hairs can be from the same person as a symbol of unity and humanity. Do you mind if I have your sample?”

Reply with “I don’t know yet. What was your transition like?”

Let’s be honest, if the person who is asking has already passed the college stage in their life, all they want to do is reminisce on their years of debauchery. To that I ask that you please do. College stories show a side of a person that you might not expect to be there.

I understand that there are people who know what their next move is. I applaud you, because that is a hard decision to make and I am truly proud that you have figured it out. For those like me, I know it’s hard to answer when people ask the most unrelenting question there is, but know it is OK to still be finding your niche.

I leave you with a quote that I now live my life by.

So now it’s time for you to “get out, (leave) right now, it’s the end of you and me.”

Everybody loves compliments. Compliments are inherently said to make other people feel good. I will never refuse one if anyone wants to tell me I am pretty. Or cute. Or beautiful. But is there a way for someone giving a compliment with good intention, actually do the opposite? You’re damn right there is. It happens to us big girls all the time. So let’s tackle some not-so-compliments and shed some light on this issue.

“You have a pretty face.”

How I will respond: “Oh, how sweet. I am glad to know that the rest of me is impossible to look at, but at least I got my face, right?” Probably followed by a soft smile.

Let’s break this down: I know you have zero ill-intent when you are telling me that my face is pretty, but think about how I will perceive that and think about the other times you have said that to people with slightly higher BMI.

What you should do: Be extremely specific — e.g. you have a glimmer in your perfect eyes that I have never seen before, your nose looks like it was sculpted by Donatello or your smile could make Beyoncé jealous. Or simply say, “you’re pretty.”

“You look good. Have you lost weight?”

How I will respond: “I haven’t been on a scale in months, but highly doubtful. I showered today. That could be the difference.”

Let’s break this down: I always look good. At any weight. You probably do too. If I was trying to lose weight you would know about it. I have tweeted every single time that I have been at the Colvin and good luck trying to find when the last time that was.

What you should do: Only make a comment if it is significant weight loss, you heard they were trying to lose weight from the pizzavine (like grapevine, but different gossip crowd), or they explicitly bring it up to you.

“Hey wanna get food? I figured you would be down!”

How I will respond: “Yes.”

Let’s break this down: That’s fair. I would like to go with you, yes. I do not think this has anything to do with my weight, but rather my love for food.

What you should do: Keep asking. Please.

“I watched Bridesmaids and you remind me of that big girl.”

How I will respond: “Like Melissa McCarthy or Megan the actual character in the movie? Thank you if it is Melissa McCarthy, but please never speak to me again if you mean Megan.

Let’s break this down: Melissa McCarthy is a beautiful, hilarious woman who I would be honored to be compared to. Megan is a tragedy — who is hilarious on the big screen — but a terrifying human being if you were to actually meet her.

What you should do: Even if you mean Megan, tell me you mean Melissa.

Truth is, a compliment is a compliment. I understand that usually when people say these things, it is intended to be sweet and sincere. I really do appreciate them and I would love for y’all to keep sending them my way. I will try to reciprocate them if I can think of any.

“Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top,” – Meghan Trainor

It has been a month, and I am still 21. Before I decided to tack on another year to my life, I wrote some lines on how being 21 was overrated. For those of you who knew I was being silly, I now understand. See there is this crazy thing that happens when you turn 21, and it is called a reawakening.

What I thought was going to happen was that I would be able to go to bars, have a beer with my mom and actually have something to do when I am stuck at an airport. Was I wrong? No. That all happened, and so much more. I have better posture, glossier hair, smoother skin and somehow I smell like cedar wood. Plainly put, I am a new person. I am now Sarah 2.1 and I am invincible.

For those curious what happens when you turn 21 I will help by answering the most common questions according to absolutely no research.

Q. Do you become an adult?

A. Not in the slightest — that would have been devastating. You actually become more immature for a short period if that is possible.

Q. Do you suddenly develop a life plan?

A. No. I was really hoping that was going to happen actually. Sorry mom. I now know that I don’t ever not want to be 21. Counts for something.

Q. Do your alcohol taste buds change?

A. Without a doubt. I refuse to drink anything that is popular. I will walk around with a beer before I drink it and ask people if they have heard of it. If 2/5 people have heard of it, it’s not going down my facehole and instead being thrown at the bartender for lying. Don’t try to offer me a Coors Light. Unless you are giving it to me for free. Then maybe I will drink it. I will drink it.

Q. Will I finally get a boyfriend/girlfriend?

A. No.

Q. Are you sure?

A. Yeah, I thought it came with the package too.

Q. Do you lose all your money to overpriced drinks?

A. No, not all your money. If you continually ask bartenders to make the drinks with the cheapest type of liquor they have, then drinks really are not that bad. Then the only thing you are losing is your dignity and sense of taste.

Q. Can I be 21 too?

A. Yes. Everyone has the capability of being 21. (I tried to find some tips online to speed up the process, but surprisingly couldn’t find any information)

For those of you who are 21, thank you for letting me join to the club with you. It truly has been a great month, and I cannot wait for the next eleven. For those still patiently waiting for your time, know that you are missing out on the greatest joys in the world and it really sucks to be you.

Turning 21 has been passed down from generations in the McLaughlin family. “I was meant to be 21 since the day I was born,” – Samantha McLaughlin, the newly initiated member, said, “The fact that I can legally buy alcohol is scary for everyone.” Samantha is not the only one who is excited that she can partake in 21 club activities. Her mother Kim McLaughlin said, “The 21 club really begins when you get to karaoke with your daughter and her friends.”

It is officially less than a week until Spring Break and I could not be more ecstatic and so irked. Every time I hear someone say that they aren’t ready for Spring Break because they are “fat like an elephant ass,” or “white like an albino squirrel in a snow storm,” (maybe not verbatim) I can feel my double cheeseburger with bacon churning in my big ol’ belly.

Super flirty. Everyone does a picture like this freshmen year. Right?

When did Spring Break become a time to be ultra-sensitive about our appearance? Oh ya, when swimsuits are involved. Spring Break has turned into a time to critically assess our “flaws” and try and adjust them before some random people from other schools can judge our meaty thighs. But have we forgotten the true meaning of the spirit of the holiday? To enjoy a week of no worries filled with questionable judgement and new experiences with friends you love and new friends you will love for only one week — or even one night. People will only remember you for your love handles if you are uncomfortable and bring attention to them.

Needless to say, everyone should feel comfortable in their own skin. And if you aren’t happy in your body and really do believe that you need to tone up — or just be healthier — you have my support. Just do not get caught up in the hype of people trying drastic diet changes and binge working out. It is your body, and there is no reason that anyone or any perception should alter what you feel is beautiful for yourself.

For those more concerned about planning your trip, here are some tips to prepare for Spring Break:

Budget. Everyone has a different financial situation. So it is better to know what you can and cannot spend money on throughout the week. There is no shame eating at a Taco Bell three nights in a row if you are running low on funds. There is shame in going to a joint KFC and Taco Bell, eating an ungodly amount of food, and then forcing yourself to throw up.

Map. I do not mean map out the directions for the drive. I mean map out all of the walk-able restaurants, grocery stores, ice cream joints, etc. There will come a time when you need to eat and will not be able to drive, or have a car. Then you will thank me. So you are welcome in advance.

Music. Every great scene in a movie is orchestrated by the perfect song that fits the situation. It can build you up to be terrified in a horror movie or can bring you to tears in a drama. Compile the music for your road trip, before you go to the beach and when you are getting ready for the night. It will make all of the difference. Or don’t. I will be jamming so I don’t care.

Buddy system. Spring Break is one of the best weeks of the year, but it could also be the the worst if you are not careful. Figure out a system that works best for you and your friends and make sure to take care of each other. Try not to pair with the person you know is into arson and strippers. Unless of course, that is you. You’re on your own then.

Yes. Prepare yourself to say yes to everything — mostly everything. Never thought you would get in the ocean when it is more frigid than the Antarctic? Never thought you would enter in a dance-off to “Baby Got Back”? You were wrong. Because Spring Break is a yes week, and you are doing it with a smile on your face. With that said, steer away from anyone with a video camera. Keep your middle finger down and your boobs tucked safely away for future you.

Pack light. Literally and figuratively. Remember you will probably be only in a swimsuit and a tank top on the beach, and maybe not even go out every night. More importantly, drop all of the grudges and silly tedious fights that you have with your friends, boyfriends/girlfriends, parents, your neighbor, your statistic professor who scheduled a test the Monday after your trip and the post office who didn’t deliver that item you needed on the beach. Bring no negative emotions, because we are lucky enough to be alive, and look forward to a whole week of fun and debauchery.

Remember that Spring Break is a time to be happy. So lose yourself in the annual experience of blissful, enchanting and euphoric — I know that is redundant, but it feels necessary — adventures that wait for you at your destination.

Do you feel like everyone around you is turning 21? Does it feel like every time you go out you see less and less of the people you call your friends? Are you the oldest person at a house party? Then you, my friend, are suffering from Latebirthdayosis. This disease is very prevalent on college campuses, but do not fear, we can fight through this together.

The symptoms of Latebirthdayosis include:

You have made more shotbook pages than you can count on five hands, and in return you have received zero.

When people talk about the bars you feel anxious, exasperated and alone. The bars have taken your friends, and it feels like they do not want you at all.

Mild depression due to FOMO.

You find yourself staying in more than usual and you have started to become accustomed to it. Possibly enjoy it as well. Anything is better than seeing younger college students actin’ a fool. You’re too old for that (yet too young for the bars).

You’re washing more t-shirts than in recent months. Who needs to dress up to eat a pizza and watch Home Alone when you are alone at home — see what I did there?

If you or a loved one is suffering from Latebirthdayosis then it is time to take a new outlook on this disease.

There are actually some positives to this diagnosis:

You are not required to attend your friend’s 21st birthday bar hop on a Tuesday and do not feel awful on Wednesday in your 8:30 a.m. Microbiology class.

No obligations of dressing up, putting on makeup or wearing pants.

You are closer in age to being a child and not fully considered an adult. Thus, allowed to act whichever way you want without judgment.

More of your friends will be able to celebrate your 21st birthday with you. They will also have a good knowledge of the best places to hit up.

Your bank account takes less of a beating due to opting out of paying for overpriced shots and late night drunk food.

Rebecca enjoys her free time by taking a must needed head shot.

Who needs a bar when you can have a Mexican themed sports adventure.

Skip the bars and make some new friends like Phillip.

Studious Paige is taking advantage of her free night and shopping for shoes.

Just because.

These crazy kids are having a flirty good time being underage! No bar needed.

It is time to stop feeling bad for yourself and take advantage of having a late birthday. Use your extra cash and calories to treat yourself to an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet. While your friends are running around the bars, go to a trampoline park and lose your shit. Stop daydreaming about the bars and enjoy your nights. The possibilities are endless. Except for the bars. The bars are not a possibility.

As a child, I was often concerned about villains breaking into my home — too many video games — so I became accustom to planning an escape route to safely get out of my house along with informing and aiding my family in the process. My plan included a slingshot and throwing a chair out the window. Would have been successful if Doctor Octopus every tried anything stupid. Since I have matured into a young adult, I have stopped worrying about something so childish and have aimed my focus on the precautions I would take when the zombie apocalypse happens. Based on all of my extensive research on zombies, including: Warm Bodies, I am Legend, Zombieland, World War Z, etc., I have concluded that there are three important questions one might ask oneself in preparation when mindless, brain-eating ex-humans try to devour your insides.

What will you wear? Think practical and stylish. Like camo cargo pants that can unzip into shorts.

What is your weapon? There is no unlimited ammo, so plan wisely. Tanks are also not an option. Katniss is a badass with only a bow, so I think you will be fine.

Who do you want by your side? Not a companion that you love so dearly you cannot leave their side, but someone who will help keep you alive. Like Bruce Lee or Al Hashemi. Yes, you can bring a dog. But not cats.

Maybe not all of the essential provisions needed for a zombie apocalypse survival, but it is important to at least have a basic knowledge of what you will need to acquire immediately when your diseased friend tries to eat your face. After I answered these questions for myself, I was curious of what my family and friends would do as well. Thus, began my quest to find out what the people I loved would do when the day comes. Just in case you are also someone who believes that there is a possibility that a widespread disease will overcome humanity, I advise you to at least answer the questions above.

Now when you have finished asking yourself these important questions, it is time for the fun part. Go to dinner with your favorite people. Sit them down and tell them you have something very serious you need to discuss. Ask them the previous questions. When they laugh at you or say something negative to you, scold them politely or punch them in the throat. This is a life or death matter, and should be taken as such. Since you were the moderator of the question, you then get to rank your friends deaths in order of their responses. For this very brief moment in your life you will act as the Grim Reaper. You are welcome for this opportunity.

Stay safe my dear friends, we will survive together. Unless you have the last Twinkie.

Here are some of my favorite tweets, thank you everyone for the very thought out responses. You all know how to prioritize.

When the zombie apocalypse happens, what is the most important thing for survival?